Incomplete Wishes, Part I
by alynwa
Summary: Written for the October Song Story challenge on LJ. The prompt is Bob Seger's "White Walls." Lyrics follow the story.


Napoleon Solo and Mark Slate flew into John F. Kennedy International Airport in Queens, New York City on the red – eye after having completed a successful affair in California. They landed at seven AM and headed to their respective homes after agreeing to meet for debriefing with Mr. Waverly at eleven – thirty that morning.

Napoleon unlocked his penthouse door and reset the alarms. He took three steps into his hallway and froze. He sensed that someone was in his apartment. Drawing his weapon, he began to search quietly to clear the area. He made his way toward his guest room. A voice emanated from it. "Well, welcome home, Napoleon. I was beginning to think you were never coming back."

"Illya!" he said as he holstered his weapon and stepped into the guest room. "I was under the impression you had gone back to your place. How are you feeling?"

"I am feeling fine. I decided that your elevator building was a better fit for me and my broken foot. If you would rather I go back to the Village…"

"Don't be ridiculous," Napoleon interjected, "I'm glad you realized that hopping up and down stairs when you don't have to is plain silly and came here. How much longer do you have to stay out sick?"

The Russian rolled his eyes and snorted his displeasure. "I am perfectly capable of working in the labs now, but the Medical Unit conspired against me and convinced Mr. Waverly that keeping off my foot for three weeks was preferable to my hobbling around in Section VIII."

Napoleon laughed. "I wasn't there, but somehow I don't think that's exactly what happened. I'm going to shower that flight off me, get dressed and make something to eat. Have you had breakfast yet?"

"Does it matter?"

"I'm sorry, I forgot who I was speaking to; I'll call you when the food's ready."

Napoleon arrived at Headquarters at ten – thirty. He went to the Commissary and purchased a cup of coffee and a cup of tea before heading to the Medical Unit. He walked up to the reception desk and smiled broadly at the nurse sitting behind the desk. "Mary Lou! You are looking radiant today, is that a new hairstyle?"

Nurse Mary Lou Brown giggled and blushed like a school girl. At sixty – five years old, she was the oldest nurse on staff and all the Section IIs adored her. She made the hated stays in Medical a bit more bearable by slipping them little treats they weren't supposed to have, but she was no pushover and they all knew that when she said no, no amount of wheedling, charm or intimidation could persuade her to change her mind. "Hello, Napoleon! I swear you could charm a cobra! Illya's discharged and home."

"I know; he moved into my spare bedroom. I saw him when I got home this morning. I'm here to see April. Mark isn't in with her, is he?"

"No, haven't seen Agent Slate this morning. You've got her all to yourself. She's in room 12."

He reached over the counter and gently grabbed her hand. Kissing it tenderly, he smiled and replied, "Thanks, Love," before releasing it and heading toward April's room.

Mark Slate and he had paired up for their mission in California because Illya had broken his foot at the same time April was diagnosed with pneumonia. _She's been here for almost two weeks, she must be going nuts!_

He knocked on her door and entered without waiting for an invitation. The look on April's face stopped him in his tracks. "Don't kill me, please!" he mock – begged. He held out the tea. "I bear gifts!"

"Oh, Napoleon, I'm so sorry! I thought you were Dr. Sanders coming in to listen to me breathe again. Please, sit. I'm going crazy sitting here staring at these white walls all day! I'm glad to see you, is Mark okay? I'm going home with him; he'll take care of me. I can't take this anymore!"

"Mark is fine; we have a debriefing with the Old Man at eleven – thirty, so if he isn't here before, he'll definitely be here afterwards, I'm sure." He looked at her closely. "Look, none of us likes being in Medical, but you seem especially out of sorts. Anything you care to discuss with your CEA?"

"Not really."

Napoleon moved the chair closer to the bed and sat. he leaned in and said, "How about your friend? You know anything you say to me…"

"Will stay between us," April finished. "I had a really strange dream last night."

Napoleon took her hand and patted it. "A nightmare?" Most Section IIs suffered from nightmares from time to time; they came with the job.

"No, at least, it wasn't the usual affair – related kind. I dreamed I woke up in a large bed in a huge bedroom. I got up and walked out the door into a large hallway. I was in a huge house, beautifully furnished with lovely paintings on the walls."

"Sounds okay so far."

"I kept walking. I was alone. I walked all around the upper floor and then I came down a grand staircase to the first floor. There was a floor to ceiling mirror in the foyer and as I approached it, I could see my reflection, but it looked much older. _I_ was much older and suddenly, it struck me: My bed was empty, I was in the late autumn of my life and all I had were a ton of unshared moments and I realized that I was going to my grave without having someone to hold, to touch and I was overwhelmed by that knowledge. I had never felt so lonely in my life! I started crying and cursing my life. I woke up crying…" Her voice trailed off as she shuddered prompting Napoleon to squeeze her hand.

"How do you feel now, April?"

"I'm all right," she replied just a shade too quickly. "I've just never had a dream quite like that before." Giving him a weak grin she added, "I think I prefer the nightmares."

Napoleon glanced at his watch and said, "I have to go meet with Mark and Mr. Waverly now. Are you sure you're okay? Mary Lou is on duty; I can ask her to come check on you."

"Don't be silly, Darling. By the time I was brought my breakfast, I was over it. Like I said, it was just very odd. Go on to your meeting and tell Mark he's breaking me out of here this afternoon." She watched him stand and put the chair in its original position. He turned around to face her and April thought he was about to say something, but instead, he shrugged and waggled his fingers in a goodbye gesture before exiting the room.

 _I couldn't tell him that the first person I thought about when I awoke was Illya. I was the one who ended things. I hurt him so badly, he would never consider reviving our relationship! And nothing's changed, we're both still Section IIs with years left in the field. Napoleon might turn a blind eye, but what about Mr. Waverly?_ She shook her head to clear her mind. _Forget about it, April Dancer, there are too many obstacles to climb._

Two minutes later, her lunch arrived and focused on it while watching television. She dozed for a while after she finished eating. She opened her eyes when she began to hear some kind of commotion in the hallway. Nothing overly loud, but she could tell there were quite a few staff moving quickly past her door. She stayed alert until things quieted down again. _Someone must have come in injured,_ she surmised. She knew her partner and Napoleon were safe inside the building and Illya was out sick, so she didn't have that worry, but she said a short prayer for whoever it was and picked up her book.

Approximately ninety minutes went by before Mark entered her room. "Oh, Darling, am I glad to see you! Doctor Sanders told me I can leave if you keep an eye on me, which is ridiculous because I…" she stopped speaking when she saw the look on his face. "What's wrong?"

He sat on the edge of her bed. "I have some bad news, Luv. Mary Lou has died."

"No, no, that can't be right. Napoleon was here this morning and he told me she was on duty. He didn't say anything about her being ill."

"Apparently, she had a massive heart attack while she was sitting at the reception desk. There was nothing anyone could do."

"That must have been what I was hearing earlier; I assumed an agent had been brought in wounded." She swiped away the tears that had slipped onto her cheeks. "Has her family been notified?"

"One of the nurses told me that Mary Lou had no family. She was an only child who never married and she had no close relatives. In fact, the only friends she had were us; the medical staff and Section II."

April sat with her legs drawn up to her chest as she took a moment to mourn that lovely woman who always had a smile and took such good care of her. She raised her head and said, "Mark, I'm going to get dressed. Be a love, call Napoleon and tell him I want to see him while you're waiting outside."

She got up as soon as Mark stepped out and took a shower. She wasn't well enough to return to work, but her lungs had cleared enough that staying in Medical was no longer necessary now that her partner had returned. She had just applied some lipstick when there was a knock on the door. "Come in, both of you."

When they did she said, "Napoleon, I made a horrible mistake breaking things off with Illya last Christmas. I have to make things right between the two of us. I want you to know because you're the CEA. I imagine you can order me to not approach him, but I hope you don't because that would be your first order that I disobeyed."

Napoleon stared at her. "I didn't object when you two first got together, why would I now? My only concern here is for my partner's feelings. He loves you, April."

"And I love him, but I was too much of a coward to admit it. That dream I told you about made me think I might have been wrong to handle things the way I did, but Mary Lou's death confirmed it. I want to be happy and that happiness includes Illya. I want Mark to take me to Illya's place so I can speak to him."

Napoleon reached into his inner suit jacket pocket and pulled out his keys. "He's not there, he's at my place. Mark and I have to complete our mission report, so take an UNCLE cab. Tell the driver to wait until you either return or tell him to go. Good luck."

Mark enfolded her in a hug before planting a chaste kiss on her forehead. "I'm pulling for you, Luv. Call me later."

The three agents left the Medical Unit, April heading for the exit while Mark and Napoleon stayed on the elevator to head to the CEA's office he shared with Illya. "I told you so, Mate," the Brit said triumphantly as he removed his jacket and sat at the Russian's desk. "She's bonkers for your partner!"

"Apparently. You know how Illya is though: Once burned, twice shy. I doubt seriously that he'll welcome her with open arms. I hate to say it, but she may have to crawl before she walks back into Illya's heart."

Mark placed a blank sheet of paper into Illya's typewriter. "Don't underestimate the stubbornness of _my_ partner, Napoleon. She's finally admitted to herself that she never should have broken up with Illya in the first place; that she's in love with him. She will win him back."

Napoleon began writing his part of the report on a legal pad. "And then, we'll see what the Old Man has to say about it all."

 **"White Wall"  
**

Springtime of new years, the young thoughts see more dreams  
while you live on the wind, how lovely it all seems  
With moments yet unshared, and wishes incomplete  
The stars above your head, the world beneath your feet

Suddenly your nights, begin to seem so long  
There's no one there to touch, when things start going wrong  
You finally realise, you've never loved at all  
and everywhere you look, you see the white wall

Your father's been too far, your mother's been too near  
And now you're on your own, withdrawing in your fear  
Through long and sleepless nights, the foxes are running free  
You long to be with them, when the scare meets the sea

You climb and then you fall, and then you try again  
You curse yourself aloud, for living so weird  
and took it to the ground, your eyes are filled with tears  
Imprisoned there you lay, in the autumn of your years


End file.
